


Randall Pearson, the (short-lived) actor

by youngerdrgrey



Category: This Is Us (TV)
Genre: 30 x 31 Writing Challenge, Alternate Universe - Actors, Gen, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-25
Updated: 2017-01-25
Packaged: 2018-09-19 19:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9457058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngerdrgrey/pseuds/youngerdrgrey
Summary: Randall only agreed to the role in the play to piss off Kevin. And he got what was technically the lead in a show calledPoems for My Son. Kevin, on the other hand, got one poem two pieces before the brief intermission./prompt: actor/director au





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for day 16 of the 30 x 31 writing challenge; **prompt:** actor/director au

 

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Randall only agreed to the role in the play to piss off Kevin. He won't admit it to anyone aside from himself at this point, but the sole reason he auditioned was because Kevin laughed when Randall read the poetry aloud. Kevin had cackled and scoffed and said that Randall wouldn't last five minutes on stage in front of everyone, even if it was just a weird spoken word meets theater sort of show. So Randall auditioned, and he got what was technically the lead in a show called _Poems for My Son_. Kevin, on the other hand, got one poem two pieces before the brief intermission.

"It's stupid," Kevin says. He walks through the gutter beside the sidewalk, kicking rocks as he goes. Some of them jump up and nip at Randall's ankles, but at least Kevin didn't leave without Randall today. They're supposed to go to rehearsals at the veterans building together. But the last three weeks, Kevin's tried going alone. He normally only gets as far as the bus stop before Randall shows up.

"What's stupid?" 

Kevin kicks another rock. "All of it. They do one play with the city every season, and they chose some weird poetry thing. Who cares about anonymous poems? Who cares about poems at all?"

Randall shrugs. He's had a book of poetry next to his bed his whole life. And because of this play, he'd read all of Dudley Randall's poems. And there were some similarities in style in some of those to some of the ones in their play. And, he could never admit it, but sometimes he likes to imagine that one of the poems is written for him. Like he's one of the sons, and it's one of his biological parents reaching out to him in the only way they know how....

He can't admit that though. Kevin would think he's stupid and ungrateful. Kate wouldn't understand. His mom would feel all guilty, and her face would scrunch up the way it always does when he mentions his birth parents, and his dad -- none of his family would know how to handle it.

He settles for saying "I think they're okay."

Kevin rolls his eyes. "Whatever, nerd." He hops onto the sidewalk as they reach a street light. The vets' hall isn't much further, which only seems to make Kevin more antsy. He yanks at his backpack straps and groans at the red light. "Plus, it's the only one that doesn't conflict with football, and we have to share the building with the drunks and the weirdos."

Recovering drunks and weirdos. "They always leave once we get there. It's not a big deal."

"You don't think anything's a big deal! But your dumb school! And your stupid homework! You're only even here to piss me off. But you know what, Randall!?" Kevin practically rushes him until they're nose to nose on the street corner. "This is all I want to do now. This is my dream, and you're crapping all over it just to prove you can. First, you took football, then my room--"

"Our room," Randall corrects. 

"And now you want this? It's bullshit."

And maybe Kevin's right. Maybe it's not fair to take a spot in the show just because he can, or just because the director thought he had something. "If I dropped out, would that--"

"Yes." Kevin doesn't even let him finish. "Drop out. Now. Just go home, and I'll tell them that you didn't want to do it. That you were too busy being the perfect son to be the artistic one too."

"Fine." Randall tightens the straps on his bag. "I'll just... hang out at the library until you're done." 

"Great." Kevin turns and crosses the street as soon as the walk sign pops up.

Randall watches him go. Watches Kevin duck into the building while a tall black man holds the door open. The man's got a copy of the script in a binder; the play's poster image is pretty recognizable even from a distance. He's probably another one of the poets. There've been at least three who've come forward and talked to the cast about their stuff. This guy's all bones and a scraggly beard. He looks about thirty, so he's probably in his forties. Which poems did he write? 

Well, it's not Randall's problem anymore. Not his role, not his right. So he goes to the library, and later that night, he tells his parents about dropping out of the play while Kevin talks about some guy named William who used to write poems on the bus they ride.

/

/


End file.
